Yesterday, I had a very sobering and difficult phone conversation with an 84 year old white woman whose name is Edith.  Edith lives in Mississippi.  It was one of those conversations that no one really wants to have.  Before making the phone call, I nervously looked at her number.  Half of me knew that I must call the other part of me said, 'it may not be the right number'.  So I would stare at the number between procrastinated activities.  And finally I ran out of things to do.

 

As I dialed the number and the phone began to ring - so much of me wanted it to be the wrong number or at least get a recorded voice.  But after what seemed an hour of the phone ringing it all happened so quickly.  A strong confident yet frail voice said,  "hello".  I said,  "hello may I speak to Edith" …  "this is Edith, who am I speaking with?"  With all the courage I could muster, I said, "Miss Edith this is Pastor Dennis Hall."  (I hid behind my title of pastor).  And before she could say anything,  "I asked are you the mother of Stephen."  There was a very long pause as if the question had taken her breath away…and she said "yes" in a weakened determined tone.  I quickly rushed to take control of the interaction and said, "Stephen and I were good friends…we met several years ago on a rafting trip in Tennessee.  We used to correspond on a regular basis… She abruptly said, "yes Dennis of course…Stephen talked about you all the time.  He always spoke very highly of you."  At that point, my breathing relaxed and everything slowed down around me and I said…"I am so sorry I just found out that Stephen passed away in May."  I repeated, "I just found out."  And we were both silent as if to honor his memory.  "Yes Dennis he died on May 10..."

 

Stephen and I had one of those friendships where we only talked every 6 months or so.  But our talks would be rich and deep.  We talk about faith, family and friendship.  So earlier yesterday (July 21, 2008) for some reason he came to my mind and I decided to call.  I called his cell number and it was disconnected.  I didn't think anything weird about a cell phone being disconnected, it happens all the time - people losing their cell phones or changing service carriers.  This was quite normal in my mind.  So I had his work number.  Stephen was a partner with a Anesthesiologists group, so I called his direct number; it too was disconnected.  Wow this was weird.  Did he move or something???  I didn't have his home number with me, so I looked his name up on the Internet.  Interestingly I found his name as part of a News Paper heading.  I was thinking he was written up for some kind of philanthropy .  (Stephen was very generous).  But instead as I clicked on the site, it was the Obituaries.  Though I scrolled down and regrettably found his name, I couldn't believe it until I read his name several times, his middle name, his age…then his title of MD.  I kept reading these facts over and over - still not really believing it.  This just couldn't be true…he's my friend…my peer…he's just 3 years older than I am.  He's a fitness fanatic, into running, biking, golf and of course outdoors stuff.  I probably read the obituary 10 times or more…trying to find a fact to prove this person I was reading about wasn't him or trying to find more facts to prove it was him.  Either way it was an exhausting exercise. The moment was so surreal I felt a little vertigo.  My head was swimming.   I even read his daughter's name but still I thought,  'it must be someone else'.  My heart wouldn't let me believe it.  It just didn't seem possible.  I mean Stephen was tall, good looking, smart, recently re-married; he had everything going for him financially secure and a respected profession; he was a medical doctor and a partner in the practice.  He was active in his church and a couple of years ago committed his life to the Lord Jesus.  A matter of fact, during one of our many conversations he confessed to me that the Lord had changed his life to the extent that he made a commitment to remain celibate until he got married.   (He kept that promise).

 

After staring at the obituary for several minutes, I decided to accept that this possibly might be him, I was filled with questions.  The obituary didn't mentioned anything about the cause of death…was he sick?  Was he in some kind of accident?  Was it just natural causes…  I had to know…

 

"Miss Edith I am so sorry…how did this happen?"  Her silence was so deafening that a pit came in my stomach…with a broken voice she began …"well Dennis he was suffering and it was torture for him and he was in pain... was diagnosed with Bi-polar and Dennis you know he was suffering and he couldn't take it any more and …and…and...he ended it."   Instead of silence she was constantly talking as if trying to defend his actions...but her words were muffled.  I quickly took the baton and ran for his and hers…"yes Miss Edith I know…he talked to me about his depression…yes I knew about it…I knew about the medication and everything...Ms Edith he was a fighter…he was so courageous…Ms. Edith he was a good man…he helped so many people.   I loved him…he was my friend.  He was such a good man.  I am so sorry.  He's okay now…I know he is okay now…the struggle is over…he is with Jesus.  He is with the Lord."  I felt I needed to defend him too.  She interrupted…"Yes… Dennis that is the only thing I hold on to is that he is at peace."

 

I talked with Edith for about 30-45 minutes.  No longer were we strangers but were intimately connected.  I felt like John being assigned to his surrogate mother, Mary as Jesus looked his way [while on the cross] and said 'mother this is your son, son this is your mother'.  I immediately felt responsible for her and she seem to know it.  I tried to talk about her well being…she wanted to talk about his dreams of creating a retreat center on his property…I reminded her how much he loved her, his wife and his daughter.  And she nodded through the phone…and spoke with confidence..."this was probably better that he preceded me…he would not have been able to take me going first."   Before we said our goodbyes we promised to keep in touch. She promised to send me a tape of his Home Going service.  And I promised to pray that his work would continue to build a retreat in Clinton, Mississippi.

 

Wow what has Stephen's death caused me to reflect on….  1) Death scares me more than I realized.  2) I wish I had called him on May 9th.  3) Mental illness can be deadly.  4) Those who suffer with it (mental illness) are so courageous…as well as those who die with it.  5) The Net of Grace and God's Love is wide enough to capture suicide victims.  6) How much I love my family and friends and don't want them to hurt 7) I will try harder to stay in touch with people I care about as often and as much as I can.

 

If you received this, please know that you are loved.  I am better because of your friendship.  Never leave (if in your control) without saying goodbye.  And always know that this world namely my world is much richer because of you.

 

Love,
PD